


I Had A Thing For Cake

by patentlyhazel



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Baker!Frank, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23803507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patentlyhazel/pseuds/patentlyhazel
Summary: It all started with a cake. Fast forward a bit and suddenly I'm running away from a cemetery night guard with a cute, punk baker who claimed to be gate-crashing my grandma's deathday party.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Kudos: 57





	I Had A Thing For Cake

It all started with a cake. It was a deathday cake if you want to get a little more specific, but it was a cake nonetheless. Mikey was supposed to order it but he wasn't very good at remembering things so when I asked him the week before we needed it, I realized it was going to be up to me. I could tell Mikey wasn't sure about the idea of a deathday celebration anyways, but he humored me like he normally did. I suppose that's one of the perks of being an older brother; he'd been going along with my strange ideas for most of our lives because I was supposed to be the one who had my shit a little more together. I didn't, but he still assumed that I did for the most part.

So there I was, Googling bakeries near our apartment because I'm a lazy motherfucker and I don't like driving, even if it's just to get a cake. It wasn't like Belleville was a Mecca for bakeries but I managed to find one that was only seven minutes from our place. Seven minutes. I could do that. I dialed the phone number and had to wait for, like, eleven rings before someone finally answered. I was honestly going to hang up, but the next closest bakery was sixteen minutes from our apartment not including the detour for construction and I _really_ didn't want to deal with that. When the phone clicked on, I heard a loud crash and muffled cursing before the person spoke.

" _Ow, motherfuck!_ Shit, uh-- sorry, Cellabration. How can I help you?"

"Um, hi. I need a cake."

"Okay, yeah, I can do that. Cake. A cake. What kind of cake?" I could tell the guy on the other end of the call was a bit flustered, presumably from the destructive noises I'd heard a few seconds before.

"Chocolate, but like, a really chocolately chocolate."

"Chocolatey chocolate. Got it. When do you need it by?"

"Wednesday night."

"Wednesday?"

"Wednesday."

His voice was cute. It was slightly childish, though not enough to make him sound like he was an actual kid, and it was a tiny bit nasally. I had a thing for cute voices. Some people liked those gravelly, "sexy" types of voices but they just reminded me of the trashy romance books for middle-aged women that were sold in the check-out aisles at ShopRite.

It didn't matter what his voice sounded like, though. Statistically speaking, only one in twenty-five men were gay in the U.S. so I was pretty used my crushes not being reciprocated. That's why gay bars and dating apps were a thing, because meeting someone "in the wild" when you're anything but straight is pretty rare. It's just math.

"Do you want anything special on it? Any decorations or words or anything?" His question shook me from my thoughts.

"Uh, could you make it look a little gothic? But pretty, still. Maybe with some purple flowers or something?"

"Pretty and gothic. Got it. Who's it for? Like, a guy or girl? Old or young? That sometimes helps, inspiration-wise."

"It's for an elderly woman. But I don't want a nursing home cake. It's still got to be badass."

"Badass old lady cake. No nursing homes," he muttered. I had to keep my giggle to myself while he was clearly jotting down notes on the other end of the line. "What size do you need? Like, a sheet or a round? Do you want tiers or anything?"

"Just something small. There's only going to be five people there, so the cake is more for the principle of it than it is for the eating part."

"Gotcha. So it can taste like shit then, yeah? Like, a chocolate box cake?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that. I had been getting the vibe that this guy wasn't the most straight-laced professional, but still.

"Kidding, dude. I always make tasty cakes." He giggled and I'm pretty sure it went straight to my dick. "Let me get your name and phone number for the order and I'll have this ready for you Wednesday before close."

I gave him my information and he went over the details of the order one more time to confirm before we hung up. As soon as the phone disconnected, I promptly shoved my hand down my pants and took care of my "problem" before Mikey came home and commented on my boner. Fucking giggle.

I didn't think too much more about the cake until Wednesday morning when my phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Hi, I'm calling for Gerard Way."

"This is me."

"Oh, hi Gerard. This is Frank over at Cellabration. Dude, I'm really sorry but there was a small issue, mechanically speaking, this morning and chances are I'm not going to have the cake by closing. You said you needed it tonight. If I deliver it, what time would you need it by?"

"Well, I mean, it doesn't start until midnight but like, I don't think you're going to be able to deliver it. I can pick it up, though, even if it's after hours." I wasn't sure how to explain to him that the cake was going to a cemetery.

"No, man, I can deliver it. Seriously. It's the least I can do for missing a deadline. Let me know where you need it and I'll have it there just before midnight."

"Frank, really. It's not a problem."

"Just let me do this, dude. Even if it's like three hours away. I hate messing things up and I want to make this right." I could hear the stress in his voice and I broke down.

"Okay, okay. Just, meet me in the parking lot on the corner of Hoover and Joralemon. Would 11:30 work? It's got to be sharp, though. I can't be late."

"I can do that. I'll see you there, dude. I'm so sorry, again."

"No problem. I'll see you tonight."

And so at 11:32 that night, I pulled my white van into the parking lot across the street from the cemetery. Mikey and I had picked up Ray, Matt, and Pete on the way over so we were all ready. We just had to get the cake. There was another car there already but I wasn't sure if it was Frank, so I parked a few spots away. The headlights were off but when I got out of the van, I could hear the music playing so I knew someone was inside. Before I could make my way over, the driver's door opened.

The driver had on a Black Flag hoodie along with a pair of dark skinny jeans. His hair was black, from what I could see in the moonlight, and it hung down to his jaw. I couldn't make out what they were, but I could tell that he had tattoos on his hands and neck, and based on the locations, I could guess that he had plenty more. After all, who decides to get tattoos in such a visible place without having others first? Quite frankly, he looked like a punk. Fuck me, though. I had a thing for punks.

"Gerard?" His voice was quiet, which I appreciated given that my friends and I were about to sneak into a cemetery to throw a deathday party for Mikey's and my grandma.

"Yeah, Frank?"

He nodded and jogged around the back of the car, opening the trunk and pulling a small cake box from the back.

As I got closer, I realized that he was pretty short. I had a thing for short guys. I pulled the envelope of cash from my back pocket and handed it over to him, trading him for the cake.

"Dude, I'm super sorry again for not having this earlier."

"It's seriously fine. I hate driving anyways so now I only had to make one trip. I should be thanking you for bringing this out here."

I shot him a smile, thankful for the darkness so he couldn't see my blush. Mikey always teased me about how much I blushed. I didn't even need a reason, most times. The smallest interaction with someone could turn my cheeks pink.

He grinned back, though, and that's when the light hit his lip and I saw the silver hoop on the corner of his mouth. My dick twitched. I had a thing for lip rings. Before I had a chance to try and calm down, I heard my van doors open and close as the rest of the guys got out. Frank looked over my shoulder and I saw recognition cross his hot-as-hell features.

"Toro, is that you?"

"Iero?"

I heard Ray behind me and before I knew it, he was pulling Frank into a quintessential "bro hug."

"How the hell are you, dude? It's been ages!" I took a few steps back towards the van, suddenly feeling like I was out of place.

"I heard you opened up a bakery, man. Those cupcakes you sent a few months ago were rad. We miss playing with you, though. Matt, get over here! It's Frank!"

Ray was a guitarist and played in a band called The Rodneys with Matt. If he was talking about Frank playing with them, that meant that Frank was probably a musician. And goddammit, I had a thing for musicians.

I went over to the van to help Mikey and Pete grab the party supplies while I let the three apparent friends catch up. We didn't have much, but it was enough to make it obvious that this was a party. Grandma was the type of woman who wouldn't want us to mourn her loss. She was one of my favorite people in the world and I can honestly say I wouldn't be who I was today without here. She taught me to love art and to appreciate the oddities of life. That's why I wanted to throw a deathday party for her. In about twenty minutes, it would mark the one-year anniversary of her death. I felt like it was too significant a day to ignore, but she would've kicked my ass had she been around to see me spend the entire day moping. My solution was to throw a deathday party and spend some time remembering the best things about her-- to celebrate her like we would for her birthday.

Once we got the balloons and the gifts from the back of the van, Mikey called over to Ray and Matt, knowing we'd have to get walking if we wanted to make it to her grave by midnight. I'm not sure what made me do it but I decided to invite Frank along with us. _Okay_ , if I'm being honest, I know exactly what made me do it. I had a crush and I wasn't ready to say goodbye. Logically, inviting the hot guy you just met to trespass to your grandmother's grave site for a deathday party was a little bit past "weird," but he knew Ray and Matt so maybe he would think it was more polite than creepy.

"Hey, Frank, you can join us if you want. You know, to catch up with Ray and Matt?" I couldn't help but throw in a little sass. It was second nature to me after all. "And also, I heard a rumor that you were going to make a shitty box cake so, like, it would be a lot easier to file a formal complaint about it if you were there when we cut it."

He grinned at me, moonlight glinting off his lip ring. "Cool, yeah. I'll bring the complaint forms with me. Also, where are we actually going?" Frank took a few steps towards me and pointed towards the balloons and presents. "Is it someone's birthday?"

"Well, no. My brother and I are throwing our grandma a deathday party. She passed away a year ago today, and I figured this was a better way to remember her than being sad the whole day."

I blushed again when Frank shuffled over next to me and gently bumped my shoulder with his own.

"Rad. She must have been a kickass grandma."

We all decided the most inconspicuous way to sneak into the cemetery would be for us to go in smaller groups from different directions, that way it would be less noticeable than six of us herding ourselves through the rows of graves. Mikey would go with Pete, Ray with Matt, and that left Frank and I.

"So, Gerard, how do you know Ray and Matt?"

"We go way back. Matt and I used to party together in high school, and I met Ray through him. What about you?

"My old band played a lot of the same shows with their band. They're cool dudes."

"Yeah." There was an awkward pause. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't great at talking to new people, so I decided to ask him about the bakery rather than blurting out how badly I wanted to find out what kissing someone with a lip ring would feel like. Part of me thought the metal would be cold, but it was conducting his body heat so maybe it would just feel like a weird, sexy bump on his otherwise soft lips. Regardless of the analysis on facial piercings that was happening in my head, I knew it would be better to keep those thoughts to myself. "What made you open your bakery? Have you always baked or did you wake up one morning with the sudden desire to put the Pillsbury Dough Boy to shame?"

"That little fucker had it coming," Frank chuckled. "But yeah, I've always been pretty decent at baking. I was actually banking on being a rockstar, though. I've been playing in bands since I was, like, eleven or something. When my last band got signed I thought that was it. We were going to make it big. But we put out one album and then broke up because we couldn't really get our shit together, creatively speaking."

"I'm sorry, Frank. That had to suck."

"Yeah, I was pretty bummed. I needed something to distract myself, and I have a small addiction to chocolate cake so I figured I might as well sell them if I was going to keep baking them. So I opened up The Cellabration and the rest, they say, is history. And as it turns out, I like baking shit as much as I liked making music so I'm pretty happy with where my life is at right now.

"I'm glad you're happy." I smiled down at him, and even though it was dark, I'm pretty sure I saw a small blush rise in his cheeks. Fuck yes, I wasn't the only one with a facial blood flow issue!

"Oh! I forgot about something. When I was looking up bakeries for the cake, your shop name is actually spelled wrong on Google. I'm not sure how to fix it, but you might want to check that out."

Frank cleared his throat and then proceeded to mumble, "uh, that's actually the way it's spelled."

"Celebration? No, it's got one 'L' and an 'E' instead of an 'A.'" I was confused.

"I mean, I know that now. But when I came up with the idea, I spelled it wrong." He paused, definitely blushing. "I figured it out before I sent in the paperwork for my business license, but when I was filling that out, I accidentally misspelled my name so I decided to keep The Cellabration spelled incorrectly since it was more authentic to myself."

"I'm sorry, Frank, but you spelled your own name wrong?" That was probably the best goddamn thing I'd heard all night. "Please tell me you've got a weird last name that's easy to fuck up."

He cleared his throat again but said nothing.

"How the fuck do you misspell 'Frank?'" I cackled, trying to keep my voice down as much as possible.

"I forgot the 'A.' So I signed my name 'F-R-N-K.' But also, I do have a fucking weird last name so maybe just be proud of me for spelling that part right."

"Dude. You are, like, my new favorite person. Can I keep you?"

"You really want to? I mean, I know friendship with me means free cupcakes for life, but also, I'm a lactose intolerant vegetarian who gets sick, like, once a month. And I'm pretty bitchy when I'm sick. So choose wisely."

"I'm pretty confident with my decision, Frankie." I grinned down at him and he leaned into me again, giving me a gentle headbutt to the shoulder. It made me shiver. Turns out, I had a thing for gentle headbutts. _Ugh_ , one in twenty-five. I had never hated statistics more in my life.

He must have noticed my shiver because he quickly unzipped his hoodie and shrugged it off, draping it it over my shoulders.

"Here, dude. I run warm."

Without the hoodie, I saw that my earlier suspicions were correct. He had plenty of tattoos running up and down his arms. He was also wearing a red shirt that was turned inside-out and though my eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, it took me a second to make out the handwritten letters on the front.

"Homophobia is gay?"

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck and looked down at his chest, "I got a little pissed off at this old lady who threw a fit in the bakery when I had my pride flag hanging up so I grabbed a sharpie and made this."

"You made that? And here I thought it was Gucci or some shit." I couldn't help the way my nose wrinkled up with my smile. Mikey told me it was always a dead giveaway that I was teasing, even when I was trying to make him think I was serious.

"Damn, son. Maybe I'm in the wrong occupation. Apparently my designs could be making bank."

We giggled quietly together. I had me curious, though. It wasn't uncommon for straight people to show support, especially during pride month.

"Are you gay?" I'd never been one to dance around a question. It may have been blunt, but he didn't seem like the type of guy to get pissed off by me asking.

"Yep, I'm pretty fucking gay."

"Fucking _finally_ ," I said, softly. "I was beginning to think I'd never meet a hot gay boy in the wild."

"In the wild?"

"Yeah. Did you know that only one in twenty-five men in the United States is gay? And that's all ages, Frankie. So if you take into account that some of them are out of your demographic or that they're not your type, it makes the odds of meeting a potential partner organically, the way straight people do, incredibly slim."

"So you're gay too?"

"One hundred percent certified homosexual."

"Rad," he paused. "So, uh, seeing as we've already beaten the odds, would I be pressing my luck if I asked you out on a date, Gerard Way?"

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

Before we had a chance to continue our conversation, we reached Grandma's grave. Mikey and Pete were already there, pulling the weighted balloons from the black trash bag that had been holding them together and arranging them around her headstone. I could see Ray and Matt approaching from several yards away with Matt carrying the small bag holding the gifts we'd brought.

I'd visited the cemetery several times since we'd buried her, but the sight of her name carved into the cold slab of rock made my breath hitch every time. Frank reached over and gently squeezed my hand, the one that wasn't holding the cake, before shoving his hands into his pockets and turning his attention to Ray and Matt who were setting the gift bags on the grass in front of the stone. Once the black balloons were arranged, we all sat in a half circle on the ground. I waited for a few minutes until the clock struck midnight, so to speak. There wasn't an actual strike, it's not like Big Ben was anywhere near us, but the small numbers changing on my phone screen were close enough.

"Hey, Grams. It's been a year, and we wanted to do something special to remember you, because things have definitely been different without you here. So we're throwing you a party. I know you would've liked it. We have a couple deathday gifts for you. Mikey? Wanna start?"

I watched my little brother grab one of the gift bags and pull out a small book.

"Hi, Grandma. Uh, it's me, Mikey. Just in case you didn't know. Yeah. So I brought you this book because I saw it at work and the title sounded really cool and I thought it would've been something you liked. Chemical Romance. Like, I thought it would be about how your brain chemicals change when you fall in love. But then I read it and it was really weird. Like, kind of a bad weird." Mikey trailed off and stared at me, wide eyed. He was used to me jumping in to save him whenever he talked, but I just smiled and nodded at him. This was his time.

"I know you would've read it if I gave it to you because you loved anything we gave you since it was from us. But this is actually bad. So please don't read it. I brought you this other book too, so you can read that instead. But yeah, I miss you. I miss reading with you so much. Books aren't the same when I can't call you and talk about them." He sniffled a little bit and I knew he was shedding a few tears. "I love you and I hope you have a happy deathday."

Mikey sat the two books against her gravestone and ducked his head down, hugging his knees to his chest. Pete took the opportunity to speak up. He was one of Mikey's best friends and had flown in from Chicago for a visit, though I was pretty sure he had timed his trip to be here especially this week. He and Mikey were so close, he had to know how hard this day would be for my brother.

"Hey, Elena. I miss you a lot. You were my favorite adopted grandma and I always had fun going to your house with Mikey. Anyways, I know you loved when we would paint your nails, so I brought you some more nail polish. It's purple, since that's your favorite color. I hope you like it." Pete pulled the tiny bottle from his pocket and set it carefully next to the books. It was Ray's and Matt's turn.

"Hi, Grandma E. We figure it's been a little cold out here, what with it being winter and all, so Matt and I knit you this scarf." Ray pulled a long and very lumpy scarf from the depths of the second gift bag, before handing it to Matt who draped it around the stone.

"It's not very good because Ray and I don't know how to knit, so we had to watch a lot of online videos to learn. But I still think it'll work. We hope you like it, and we miss you a lot."

I wasn't expecting Frank to say anything, so I was pretty surprised when the punk next to me began to speak.

"Hi Elena, my name is Frank. I didn't have the pleasure of knowing you when you were here, but I'm honored to be able to meet you now through your grandsons and their friends. I'm kind of gate-crashing your party so I didn't bring a gift. But I _did_ bake the cake so that should probably bump me up to the number one contender for being your favorite person." I snorted. And here I thought I was the queen of sass. Grandma probably would have loved Frank. She appreciated a good sense of humor and someone who didn't hold back.

"I'm kidding, of course. It's pretty obvious you had a lot of love in your life and from what I hear, these guys meant a lot to you. Anyways, I hope you have a happy deathday and all that." Frank smiled over at me, rocking to the side so he could nudge me with his shoulder. "Your turn, Gee."

If heart palpitations weren't a serious medical issue, I would have sworn mine skipped a beat. I'd heard the nickname before from plenty of people, present company included, but it sounded so much better coming from Frank. I had a thing for cute guys giving me nicknames. I shook my head gently like I could physically clear my mind.

"Grandma, I miss you more than you can imagine. You were my person. Mine and Mikey's. Things aren't the same without you here but I just keep reminding myself that life changes and we have to change with it. That's what you taught us and we're taking it to heart. I didn't know what to get you so I drew you a picture. It's you, me, and Mikey. You always liked having pictures of the three of us. I even laminated it so it won't get hurt by the rain."

I pulled the small, plastic-covered paper from the gift bag in front of me and laid it down on the grass next to the books and the nail polish. I could feel Frank leaning forward to get a better look at the drawing but I didn't mind.

"I love you, Grams. I think about you every day. I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're near me, but I know that you're at least in my mind every step of the way."

I reached over next to me to pull the cardboard cake box into the center of our group. I don't know if he could tell that my hands were shaking, but Frank leaned forward, pulling the lid off and tearing the perforated sides of the box so the cake was sitting on the flat, bottom section like it were a plate. My breath caught in my throat when I saw it. It was perfect.

The cake was covered in a smooth black frosting with deep purple poppies scattered across the surface. There were pieces of black lace that were artistically placed and seemed like they were made from chocolate. There were also strings of black pearls running like veins on the sides. It wasn't overdone, it was simple and elegant. I could honestly say that it was the most beautiful cake I'd ever seen.

"Frankie, this is perfect," I whispered.

"Just wait til you taste it. It's the most chocolatey chocolate cake you'll ever have."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the little black candle and lighter I'd brought with me. I carefully pushed it into the center of the cake and Frank cupped his inked hands around it while I lit the wick. We all stared at the flickering flame for a few moments until a small gust of wind blew it out, which was honestly perfect. Logically, I knew it was nature and not Grandma, but in my heart, it was her.

Mikey pulled the plates, forks, and knife out of the last bag and started to cut slices of the cake. The first slice went to Elena, of course. She was the guest of honor. We passed the rest of the slices around. When I took my first bite, I couldn't help but moan around the fork in a way that was entirely too sexual for me to do while sitting at my grandmother's grave. I never believed that food could actually be orgasmic, but holy _fuck_ , was I wrong. If someone fed me cake like this naked in bed, I'm pretty sure I'd get off without even having to touch myself.

"Still want to file a formal complaint, Gee?" Frank grinned over at me, shoving a large bite of cake into his mouth which would have been a turn off if it was anyone else but him.

"Fuck you, dude. You've literally just ruined all other cake for me."

"Good, 'cause I don't want anyone else baking cakes for you except for me." He waited a beat before continuing, "ya'know, for professional competition and all that shit."

Mikey coughed and shot me a curious look. I was blushing and even in the dark, I knew he could tell. He knew me well enough. I just met his gaze and gave him a shy smile which seemed to be enough to satisfy him. We'd have time to talk later. I figured we'd both end up in my bed once we got home. Neither of us would want to sleep alone tonight and Pete was apparently too hyperactive to share a bed with so Mikey always made him sleep on the couch.

We were all finishing up our cake slices when we heard a voice shouting over to us and saw the flashlight beam pass over where we were sitting.

"Who's there? You're all trespassing. The cemetery closes at sundown!"

"Run!"

The six of us leapt up from the ground and bolted in different directions, an unspoken agreement to meet back up at the van once we made it out safely. I felt someone reach out and tug my hand, pulling me sideways through the rows of gravestones.

"Come on, Gee! This way!" It was Frank. I laced my fingers through his as we ran as quickly as we could. After a few minutes of sprinting, we scrambled over the cemetery gate and found ourselves safe on the sidewalk with no sight of the night guard.

I bent over, hands on my knees, panting and trying to catch my breath. I smoked way too many cigarettes to be running like we did. When I finally felt like I was able to breathe again, I stood up to find Frank inches from my face, his eyes glinting with mischief. I bit my lip, feeling the flush in my cheeks again. I had a thing for bad boys, and Frank certainly looked like he liked trouble a little more than the average baker.

He took a small step closer to me, which I didn't even realize was possible until he'd already done it, and brought one of his hands up to brush the sweat-damp hair away from my eyes. All progress I'd made to normalize my breathing went right out the window, especially when he shot me a downright devilish grin and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. And, oh lord, I had a thing for his lips.

Pulling back, he caught my hand again and started walking us both in the direction of the parking lot like he hadn't just rocked my world with one goddamn peck. We walked in a comfortable silence until we made it back to the van, where thankfully, the other four boys had made it unscathed. They were conversing animatedly with each other so Frank and I stopped just short of where they stood.

"Do you like coffee, Gerard?"

"God, yes."

"Good. I have a bad habit of always making too much. Come to the bakery on Saturday morning? You can help me finish it and I'll bake you something sweet."

I nodded which made him smile, and he stood up on his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to my cheek, squeezing my hand before waving to the boys and hopping into his car to drive away. I walked over to where my friends were, pointedly ignoring their smartass comments while I watched Frank's tail lights disappear into the night. I was entirely too happy to listen to their teasing. After all, I had a hot date on Saturday morning to look forward to. And to top it off, I was pretty sure I was going to get a second taste of the best cake I'd ever had.

And I had a thing for cake. Or maybe, just maybe, I had a thing for the boy who made it.


End file.
